After walking through endless oversized barrels, and spending hours learning about a liquor I now despise, I lift my camera and take a panoramic view of my surroundings. While everyone else seems sufficiently buzzed from the tasting, I’ve just eaten my weight in tacos. Damon, being the generous bastard he is, added a romantic sunset buffet for the five of us at the end of our tour.
Because slaughtered hearts have to eat too, right?
The distillery provided the most spectacular view to dine at with its cliffside location. The patio is surrounded by similar rocky cliffs, and in the distance, an ample view of the ocean to watch the descent of the sun. Our candle-lit round top sits on a beautifully paved deck full of empty tables. We seem to be the only group who opted for the top-notch buffet and romantic atmosphere tonight—which pairs perfectly with the irony bouncing around us.
The vibe is surprisingly chill, with Spanish guitar music crooning softly out of nearby speakers. Our overly attentive catering staff continues to change out the buffet trays with fresh eats every few minutes as though they’re serving royals. I, myself, dined like a queen eating her feelings while keeping my focus averted from the man sitting across the table. Feeling somewhat safe in my chair now, Damon serves as our buffer while Misty vapes, chatting with Holly next to the waist-high brick wall encasing the patio. I tune out of Easton and Damon’s exchange while praying for the minutes of this sentence to tick out. Feeling somewhat confident that I’m going to get through the last of it unscathed, my safety is abruptly ripped from me when Damon excuses himself to answer a call. Ignoring my pleading eyes, holding a finger up to the two of us, he leaves Easton and me alone at the table.
As he walks back toward the distillery for privacy, I decide Damon is an Olympic-level Judas in the best friend department. I will be informing him of his update in status as soon as I have the opportunity. Having already spent most of my day facing as much of this reality as I can withstand, I look over to Easton to engage him, instead of shying away from conversation. I find his eyes already focused curiously on me as the sun begins its descent, tinting the sky in various hues of pink and red.
“Not so horrible, right?” I speak up while snapping another photo. “This view is—”
“What do you get?” Easton cuts me off abruptly, his tone biting.
“Pardon?” I ask, texting a picture of our view to Dad.
“Don’t play ignorant. You know exactly what I’m asking. Put the phone down and tell me what you get, Natalie.”
My eyes widen as he kicks back in his seat, his delivery far too hostile for casual conversation. Though his posture is relaxed, the look in his eyes tells me he’s anything but.
“Fine. I get that we married our parents into this very type of situation.”
“I fucking knew it,” he scoffs.
“Knew what?”
“That you were justifying our divorce.”
“Never that,” I sip my water.
“No? Sure seems like it. Newsflash, Natalie. Plenty of people get along with their exes for the sake of their children.” He tosses his napkin on his plate, the leather cuff fastened around his wrist keeping the majority of my focus before I take him in fully—something I’ve deprived myself of since we met up hours ago. His thick hair, which is definitely a few inches longer, hangs just above the collar of his dark blue linen button-down.
“I would say ours was a much different situation, but I’m not entirely disagreeing with you. Even so, there’s no point in arguing about it since it’s been put to bed, right?”
He scoffs. “Sure has, Sleeping Beauty.”
“Hey, hey,” I speak up in defense, “I’m just as uncomfortable as you are, but we don’t have to turn on each other.”
“That’s always been your angle, hasn’t it, Natalie? Putting everyone else’s feelings first.”
“Don’t,” I warn in a harsh whisper. “I was just trying to find some meaning in the situation. It’s ironic and probably a little deserved, considering. You don’t have to be such a jerk about it.”
“Yeah, well, maybe tequila brings out the worst in me,” he snaps, grabbing his rocks glass and tossing some back. “Or maybe it’s you.”
“Easton, please put your weapons away. We’re leaving soon.” I glance around uneasily to see our rapidly heating exchange unnoticed. “I fly home in two days, but I can make an early exit, if that’s what you’ve decided you want.”